Abby gives Gibbs and Ducky a gift that one of them didn't even realize he wanted.
A first time story.
Written: December 2009. Word count: 1,954.
For about an hour after they'd finished Ducky's wonderful Christmas dinner, they sat slumped in armchairs or on the couch, drinking coffee and brandy and chatting from time to time. They were all just happy to be in one another's company celebrating another Christmas together.
Finally, Abby sat up in the chair she'd slumped into. "Game time," she announced, beaming at them all.
"Abbs." Jethro made the cursory objection, even though he knew Abby would get her way - if only because if he objected too strongly, she'd enlist Ducky's help. And for Jethro, saying 'no' to either Ducky or Abby was hard enough; saying 'no' to both of them was impossible. "Go on then," he said, as she just stared at him. "But nothing energetic.!
She shook her head. "This isn't. Okay, it's a kind of forfeit game. We all draw a name from our own pile." She began to lay out seven small piles of folded paper on the coffee table in front of her. She glanced up and smiled. "I did that to make sure you don't get yourself. Then I'll pick a name from this pile," she nodded at one of two, in different colored paper, that were in front of her. "Then the person whose name I pull out reads out the name on their piece of paper. Then I'll pick a forfeit from this pile and the person has to do it for the person whose name they read out." She finished speaking and looked around expectantly at them.
"That sounds complicated, Abby. Can't we just play charades?
"No, Tony, we can't. Now come on. That's your pile. It has all our names but your own. Well pick one!"
DiNozzo rolled his eyes but obeyed. One by one the rest of the team, including Abby herself, picked a piece of paper from his or her own small pile.
"No looking yet," she instructed, as DiNozzo began to unfold his. "Right, now each of us will do something for someone else. Get it?"
Ziva nodded. "Yes, Abby."
"Good. So the first name is," Abby paused dramatically and unfolded a piece of paper. "Tony!" she announced brightly. "Now you can unfold your paper, Tony, and tell us who you've got."
Getting into the spirit of the occasion, DiNozzo somewhat extravagantly unfolded his paper and squinted at. "It's you, Abby," he announced.
She smiled at him. "Let's see what you get to do for me." And again she unfolded a piece of paper. "Ooh," she exclaimed. "You get to sing a Christmas carol or song to me."
DiNozzo looked around him wildly. "I don't know any," he said, "not really."
"Ah," Ducky said, standing up and crossing to the sideboard. "Now I can assist you with that, Anthony." He picked up what looked like a framed picture, brought it back and handed it to DiNozzo. "There you are: The Twelve Days Of Christmas. Mother wrote it out for me one year," he said simply. "I thought she had crafted it so beautifully, I had it framed. So there you go, you may sing that to Abigail. I assume you know the tune?" However, without waiting for DiNozzo to answer, Ducky hummed the first couple of lines.
DiNozzo quickly scanned the text and then after two abortive attempts began to sing to Abby. By the time he'd reached 'Seven swans a-singing' everyone, except Jethro himself, was joining in with the lyrics.
When he'd finished Abby clapped her hands. "That was lovely, Tony," she said. "Thank you. And now, we have - Ducky!"
Ducky smiled and read out the name he'd picked. "Ziva."
"And your forfeit is." Again Abby paused for a moment as she unfolded a piece of paper. "To dance with Ziva."
Ducky inclined his head. "It will be my pleasure." It took him only a moment or two to find a suitable piece of music and put it on. Then he calmly and expertly guided Ziva around the room in a very elegant waltz.
"Thank you, Ducky," she said, when he escorted her back to her seat. "I enjoyed that very much." She kissed him on each cheek.
"The pleasure was all mine, Ziva."
Abby waited until Ducky had returned to his seat, before taking another piece of paper from the dwindling pile and opening it. "Okay," she said. "Next up is . . . Gibbs!"
Jethro groaned under his breath and obliging unfolded his name and read it. "Ducky," he said, allowing more than a touch of pleasure and a modicum of relief to sound in his voice.
Abby's smile turned into her pussy-cat one and she elaborately opened Jethro's forfeit. Just for a second she paused. Then she looked at him, meeting his stare and holding it. "And you get to kiss Ducky," she declared.
The room fell silent.
It was Gibbs himself who broke it. "Abbs!"
"What? Come on, Gibbs. Tony sang to me. Ducky waltzed with Ziva. Surely you can spare your closest friend a little kiss, can't you?"
Maybe it was just the quantity of wine he'd consumed or the whole mellow feeling or the little voice in his head or something else entirely, but Jethro decided not to object. "I don't mind if Duck doesn't," he said. He glanced at his oldest friend.
However, Ducky sat in silence and just watched him. His look, normally so easy for Jethro to read, was unfathomable.
Jethro stood up and held out his hand towards Ducky. "Duck?" Ducky took it and allowed Jethro to help him to his feet. Jethro was about to slide one hand around Ducky's neck, when Abby cried out.
"Wait! You have to be under the mistletoe."
Jethro frowned at her and opened his mouth. But then closed it again as she just glared at him. He shrugged and looked at Ducky, who still hadn't spoken. "Shall we?" he asked politely, and when Ducky gave a small nod, he took Ducky's hand and led him across the room to were a large bunch of mistletoe hung.
He was well aware that five pairs of eyes were watching them. Oddly, however, that didn't bother him; what did was Ducky's continued silence. He and lowered his head slightly and spoke very quietly, so softly he knew his voice wouldn't carry to where the kids sat. "You okay with this, Duck?" he asked.
Ducky moved back just a little and gazed up at Jethro. "Why would I not be?" he asked, his tone level, his voice also low. Still his gaze was unreadable.
Jethro frowned. Sometimes Ducky's way of phrasing things, even when asked a direct question, confused him. "Is that a 'yes'?" he demanded.
Before Ducky could answer, Abby called out, "Come on, Gibbs. It's a really simple forfeit. Just kiss Ducky."
He was about to turn to her and answer her, when Ducky touched his arm. "Yes," he said softly.
Jethro swallowed hard, put his arms loosely around Ducky and lowered his head and . . . His lips met Ducky's. He'd intended, at least he thought he'd intended, to kiss Ducky, as Ziva had done at the end of the dance, on each cheek. But somehow, whether consciously or sub-consciously his aim had failed and his mouth had met Ducky's.
For a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of a second, he was about to pull away, but he found he couldn't. Far more importantly, he didn't want to. He increased the pressure on Ducky's mouth and pulled his dearest, closest friend into a tighter embrace and went on kissing him and kissing him.
As Ducky's mouth parted beneath his and he slipped his tongue inside Ducky's mouth, he realized something: he was becoming aroused, and from the feel of Ducky's body against his, he wasn't the only one.
He broke the kiss long enough to gulp in some air, before returning his mouth to Ducky's and beginning to kiss him all over again. One hand slid up into Ducky's hair, silky hair, the other held him protectively, possessively around his back.
As they kissed and went on kissing, Jethro had no idea how much time had elapsed; in fact he'd swear in fact none had gone by at all. He'd swear an oath that rather than go by, time had simply stopped. Just as the world had stopped spinning; just as everyone else had faded out of existence; just as the room had constricted and all there that was left was Ducky and him in one another's arms kissing and pressing against one another.
Vaguely, he half thought he heard a sound that might have been doors opening and shutting again and footsteps. But that was impossible. Time had stopped; so no one could be moving. Even he wasn't moving as such, not really; he was standing holding the man whose mouth and body he was suddenly highly addicted to in his arms, kissing the person he'd instantly tumbled head-over-heels in love with. And as he kissed Ducky, he knew one startling fact: this was it. This was the person he was going to spend the rest of his life with; the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
Finally, the realization dawned that he and Ducky were giving the kids a floor show; Jethro, without any hint at all of rushing or embarrassment, once again gentled the kiss and stopped it. He gazed down into Ducky's dark, passion and loved filled eyes and smiled before putting his lips to Ducky's ear and whispering, "Wonder how quickly we can get rid of the kids, Duck?"
"Actually, my dear," Ducky said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I think that would be sooner than even you were expecting."
"Huh?" Still not letting go of Ducky completely, Jethro glanced over his shoulder. The room was empty. Not only of the five younger members of the team, but also of the small pile of presents had each had by his or her chair. It was as if they hadn't been there. The faint sound of doors opening and shutting and footsteps again came back to him.
He swallowed again and turned back to Ducky who was smiling. "So, Duck," he said, lightly kissing Ducky's cheeks, as had been his original intention, "you reckon you're up to something a bit more energetic?"
Ducky seemed to glow, as he lightly ran one hand over Jethro's now very obvious arousal. "I do believe I am, my dear Jethro," he said.
Jethro kissed his again, before offering him his arm. "Shall we then?" Together they walked out of the living room. Ducky paused in the hall and Jethro locked and bolted the front door, before this time taking Ducky's hand and going upstairs with him.
SEVERAL HOURS LATER
Dressed in only his trousers and undershirt with a sweater of Ducky's pulled on over the top, Jethro began to tidy up the living room. Ducky was in the kitchen putting together, in his words, 'a light supper'.
Jethro was about to just sweep all the piles of Abby's names and forfeits into the trash can, when something stopped him. He grabbed the remaining five folded names from what had been 'his' pile and opened them one by one. Oddly enough, he found he wasn't at all surprised to find 'Ducky' on each piece of paper.
"Ah, Abbs," he said fondly, sweeping all the other piles into the trash can, but leaving the one pile to show Ducky. "Thank you."
Then realizing Ducky had been out of his sight for at least five minutes and that was five minutes too long, he strode out of the room and headed for the kitchen and his lover.
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